Still Alice (A- or 3.5/4 stars)
'Still Alice' (directed by Richard Glatzer & Wash Westmoreland) concerns the cruellest of neurological disorders; a rare, hereditary kind of onset Alzheimer's -- suffered in this film by a woman named Alice. In the opening scene, we see Alice Howard (Julianne Moore) as a famous Columbia University linguistics professor who has worked hard at achieving her goals and is celebrating a grand birthday dinner. She is happily married to John (Alec Baldwin), a biologist who calls her the smartest & most beautiful woman he's ever known, and they have 3 grown children to be proud of. Although she's only 50 yrs. old, Alice starts to notice slight memory problems (in a college lecture, she forgets a word; when jogging through Columbia's campus one day, she doesn't quite know where she is).
Instead of telling John first, Alice sees a neurologist who rules out a brain tumor and, after further tests, diagnoses her with said early onset Alzheimer's. Alice, who's always been a whipsmart, on-the-ball, take-charge person, realizes that she is now at war with a disease that will get worse as time goes on. She eventually tells John & her children (including a tightly-wound Anna, well-played by Kate Bosworth); explaining that it feels like her brain is dying -- she's depressed that she'll eventually forget her loved ones, but she also laments the eventual loss of her wits & life work. Knowing that this particular type of Alzheimer's is genetic, Alice also feels great guilt & shame that she may be passing this horrible legacy onto her children. Still, Alice valiantly decides to make the most of the time she has left.
As her condition worsens, Alice is forced to retire and, the "losses" start coming at a clip: forgetting names of people, misplacing personal items, stopping activities she used to love doing. Though Alice & John are a devoted married couple, Alice's most touching relationship - as depicted in the movie - is with her youngest daughter, Lydia (an effective Kristen Stewart). Alice & Lydia have a very push-&-pull relationship (Alice wants her to go to college, Lydia wants to pursue acting). But as Alice's condition worsens, Lydia becomes her caregiver and, in the end, she is the only one who truly treats Alice as if she were ... still Alice.
In one of the most powerful scenes, Alice delivers a speech at a Dementia conference, "Being diagnosed with Alzheimer's is like being branded with a scarlet A. But I am not what I say or what I do or what I remember -- I am fundamentally more than that. Please don't look at our scarlet A's and write us off. I am not suffering ... I am struggling". But most shattering is a scene in which a mostly lucid Alice records herself giving instructions to her FUTURE self when she has already passed the point of no return. Not wanting to rot away in a nursing home, she gives herself slow, specific suicide instructions for the time when all is lost, literally. One day, Alice prematurely finds the video file on her laptop and begins to unknowingly enact the instructions. Fate steps in, but I won't reveal the outcome of the situation.
Julianne Moore is exquisite as the titular Alice. I believe she should have won an Academy Award for her work in 1997's Boogie Nights and she was deserving countless other times (The Hours, Far from Heaven, A Single Man, the list goes on & on). But THIS is the performance that should finally nab her an actual win. Known for her showy, edgy portrayals, she actually impresses moreso here by simply inhabiting a normal person; a normal, smart woman who happens to be afflicted with something awful. It's a superbly delicate performance; one that hits bold emotional dynamics with even the smallest of gestures or nuance.
It's difficult to put into words why 'Still Alice' is as effective as it is. There are no cinematic bells-&-whistles. And this cinematic experience, like most illness-of-the-week flicks, will put you through the emotional ringer (think 1983's Terms of Endearment or 1998's Stepmom). Having said all of that, the storytelling is intelligent (dodging illness drama cliches), the performances are excellent, & there's an intangible je ne sais quoi quality about this modest production that just feels right -- everything is balanced. Nothing is strained. There is no bloat in the running time (95 minutes or so). I just really, really admire this film; an in-depth, informative drama that not only breaks your heart {watch out for the final scene}, but provides sensitivity to anyone who has or knows someone stricken with such an illness.
Instead of telling John first, Alice sees a neurologist who rules out a brain tumor and, after further tests, diagnoses her with said early onset Alzheimer's. Alice, who's always been a whipsmart, on-the-ball, take-charge person, realizes that she is now at war with a disease that will get worse as time goes on. She eventually tells John & her children (including a tightly-wound Anna, well-played by Kate Bosworth); explaining that it feels like her brain is dying -- she's depressed that she'll eventually forget her loved ones, but she also laments the eventual loss of her wits & life work. Knowing that this particular type of Alzheimer's is genetic, Alice also feels great guilt & shame that she may be passing this horrible legacy onto her children. Still, Alice valiantly decides to make the most of the time she has left.
As her condition worsens, Alice is forced to retire and, the "losses" start coming at a clip: forgetting names of people, misplacing personal items, stopping activities she used to love doing. Though Alice & John are a devoted married couple, Alice's most touching relationship - as depicted in the movie - is with her youngest daughter, Lydia (an effective Kristen Stewart). Alice & Lydia have a very push-&-pull relationship (Alice wants her to go to college, Lydia wants to pursue acting). But as Alice's condition worsens, Lydia becomes her caregiver and, in the end, she is the only one who truly treats Alice as if she were ... still Alice.
In one of the most powerful scenes, Alice delivers a speech at a Dementia conference, "Being diagnosed with Alzheimer's is like being branded with a scarlet A. But I am not what I say or what I do or what I remember -- I am fundamentally more than that. Please don't look at our scarlet A's and write us off. I am not suffering ... I am struggling". But most shattering is a scene in which a mostly lucid Alice records herself giving instructions to her FUTURE self when she has already passed the point of no return. Not wanting to rot away in a nursing home, she gives herself slow, specific suicide instructions for the time when all is lost, literally. One day, Alice prematurely finds the video file on her laptop and begins to unknowingly enact the instructions. Fate steps in, but I won't reveal the outcome of the situation.
Julianne Moore is exquisite as the titular Alice. I believe she should have won an Academy Award for her work in 1997's Boogie Nights and she was deserving countless other times (The Hours, Far from Heaven, A Single Man, the list goes on & on). But THIS is the performance that should finally nab her an actual win. Known for her showy, edgy portrayals, she actually impresses moreso here by simply inhabiting a normal person; a normal, smart woman who happens to be afflicted with something awful. It's a superbly delicate performance; one that hits bold emotional dynamics with even the smallest of gestures or nuance.
It's difficult to put into words why 'Still Alice' is as effective as it is. There are no cinematic bells-&-whistles. And this cinematic experience, like most illness-of-the-week flicks, will put you through the emotional ringer (think 1983's Terms of Endearment or 1998's Stepmom). Having said all of that, the storytelling is intelligent (dodging illness drama cliches), the performances are excellent, & there's an intangible je ne sais quoi quality about this modest production that just feels right -- everything is balanced. Nothing is strained. There is no bloat in the running time (95 minutes or so). I just really, really admire this film; an in-depth, informative drama that not only breaks your heart {watch out for the final scene}, but provides sensitivity to anyone who has or knows someone stricken with such an illness.